


Against Sharp and Sweet

by orphan_account



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Community: Suitsmeme, F/M, Kink Meme, Library Sex, POV Female Character, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-29
Updated: 2012-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-30 06:37:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In their school years they chase their own forms of victory, discover that winning depends on how they define it, and fuck until the sex becomes something unsustainably <i>else</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Against Sharp and Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Harvard, sex and law: licenses taken. 
> 
> Repost of [this kink meme fill](http://suits-meme.livejournal.com/1484.html?thread=67532#t67532).

If she looked past the red flush of Harvey's ear, she could read Tʜis ғʟᴏᴏʀ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪʙʀᴀʀʏ ᴄʟᴏsᴇs ᴀᴛ ᴍɪᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ. Around the curve of his arm— he had, for once, skipped the gym in the mad rush of trial prep— the clock blinked 11:41:39, 11:41:40, seconds slipping away easy as his body from hers. He still wore nothing but confidence, his damnable lack of shame, but he was fumbling for his watch in the half-dark and there was never enough time to care about library hours.

Dana pulled her trench coat over the hickey on her shoulder. "Not your best effort, Harvey. Try again." She used the tone she knew riled him as she pulled his hips back against hers.

"I'm a man," he protested.

She tried to swing her legs back up, but he stepped back so fast she barely avoided an ungainly collapse to the carpet, and that pissed her off. "So?"

"We have certain physical limitations, Scotty, you know this."

"Well..." Her nail polish caught the lamplight as she traced his lip. It was kind of pretty when they went from clawing-the-walls-down to these little moments, she supposed, but not enough to make her let him go. "You spoke well in trial. Wasn't there something else you were really good at with that silver tongue of yours?"

"My fingers type quickly too," he said, a traitorous smile dimpling his face. She had him. While she couldn't literally feel the pulse in his leg against hers, she thought it quickened as she pressed his hand to her thigh.

"You're insatiable."

"Some of us are good at back-to-back, oh, cases," she murmured and crowded him against the wall.

"Books are going to bruise you," he said, gesturing at the shelf beside them.

"I'm leaving if you keep doing useless things with your hand."

(She was tangling his hair, her mouth open to his, three of his fingers in her and one of hers circling tight around her clit when the lights came on. The staff was well paid; she never thought about getting what she wanted with guilt.)

\--- ---

"Harvey."

"You're brilliant."

"What do you like about me?" She toed the comforter over his knees and propped herself against the pillows. It was such a rare occasion they didn't just fall against each other half-dressed in his kitchen, she had to take advantage of the mattress.

"You're incandescent."

"Harvey, Harvey. Don't you want to know what I like about you?"

"I beat you at your own game. I cut you like a knife would and pull you back together with my stupendous bed skills."

"Sometimes," she said, flopping back into the sheets. "The razor is so evident in your wit today."

"You can drag your nails into my back until I bleed if it makes you feel more adequate."

"Yeah, yeah."

\--- ---

In her childhood she didn't understand relationships.

That didn't last.

All through her teenagedom, her years as a gangly thing teachers called on too much and boys hit on too little, she watched classmates flutter eyelashes and contort themselves and dress themselves in gold and glitter. Dana was too smart to need the sociological explanation, but their confirmations gratified her. Those girls turned to their peers too demure to face forward but sly enough to push their hips back, their breasts forward, even when they were too young to have much of either.

The boys didn't deserve it. Even in college males seemed infantile, as though determined to fulfill every stereotype. Law school was (a home she never had; she was proud to make it alone) the homecoming— all these bright, sharp people drawn to edges. They didn't treat anyone like spun glass. Women who wore the pencil skirts and blazers she favored long before them. Men like Harvey Specter, although, of course, not quite so sharp as him. It took her three weeks to realize his jerking off was an act that intentionally concealed his talent. In four he became her competitor.

She knew rules, she knew law, and she knew the decisions men handed down and the disrespect they stopped showing her and men in every carnal sense. Dana Scott loved beating people actually worth the fight.

\--- ---

"I don't know about that," Harvey said. "Have you tried Crema? Wouldn't you like some coffee to keep you company tonight?"

She hadn't planned on hooking up with him that day, but he held himself so infuriatingly close, bringing her books in the library, and now he didn't mean anything? "I don't think coffee is the best mistress."

"Mistress, now." He smirked, but if she could read people at all, she didn't think other girls had been cavorting about his mind lately. "What do you prefer?"

Her choices were easy. "Can you wait for your pretentious pan-Europa roast until tomorrow? We should go find out what I prefer."

\--

Later, giggling as Harvey bumped his head against a table leg, she asked, "Why did you even bring up Crema?"

He put his hand against her neck and stroked softly at her throat. "Scotty, if you say outright what you want, you're not going to get it. You need to learn to deflect people from their preconceptions."

Dana pouted. "If I say I want to fuck you against every flat surface in this building, you aren't going to join me?"

"That's not the point-" he got out before she kissed him. It made her want to sing _look how smart my boy is_ , how effortlessly sharp, how he coasted through good as everyone and then— she didn't have that much time outside the library. She had to use study breaks as well as she could. Thumping him with a Journal of Privacy Law didn't even hurt but it got his attention so he'd kiss deep back and bury his fingers into her hair.

\--- ---

"Ah, ah, do that again..."

Harvey twisted his thumb against one nipple and brought his tongue in quick hard licks across her other, and her ankles uncrossed before she knew she was opening her legs. "Rougher?" he asked.

"Reactions, you—" then he bit down, hard. She tossed her head back, let him watch her stomach tighten as the brief touch of pain tingled down to her clit. The linoleum in the room wasn't her first choice, but at least it'd be easy to clean up after their tryst. "You know what I like, yes, _there_. Take your goddamn shirt off, _oh_ , you want to feel this too."

His eyelids were hooded over pupils dilating in the dark. "You're giving me a fair exchange," he said.

"Blank check if you do that, say, two feet down," she retorted as she arched up into the renewed torment of his tongue. She put one hand over her folds, a bit like a taunt, much as an invitation to _how can you not be fully hard yet, slide in already_ , and the other palm flat over his tousled hair to press him closer. "I'll blow you on the roof of the pool equipment."

"How does that work," he managed before she shoved him down.

His hands clasped around her waist, just above her hips. She hadn't known she was sensitive there but they were so in sync, it was gorgeous, and even better when he began teasing licks along the crease of her thigh. "You've always been so daring." His strokes became longer and lazier. "And new rule, Harvey: don't ask a lawyer's questions when we're in bed."

He pulled his face away, lips red and shiny, and grinned at her moan. "When were we in a bed?"

They were supposed to be incoherent by now, but Dana loved that he could be such a good lay even when talking. So long as he was talking to her and promised to put his tongue back on her clit and suck in the next minute, she was fine. (Once they stood in a carrel, his thumb in her ass and she riding the fingers of his other hand to the knuckle— up-down snaps of her hips— as he alternated sentences from his next opening statement and quick tongue along her folds.) "Do what you're good at."

So she made a noise when she had him slick with his precome and he could lift her legs around him with his own impatience. She wanted him to desire her, to look at her dark and eager and only break contact now and then to stare at himself where she tightened around his cock, to think only of her for a moment whether in respect or need or domination, even, nothing else on his mind but her shuddering breath and the heat of them together. She wanted him to keep one hand rubbing the line from hard nipple to hip, over and over, appreciating her curves, hook an arm around her neck and feel her toes against his back. She wanted him to find rhythm and speed it, slow it, syncopate it around the pulse of her heart.

She also wanted him to just put his fucking cock in and _move_.

She couldn't control her breathing once he did, although it was fair that he couldn't either. They had a celebration, some class action suit or another, it didn't matter, she felt least vulnerable when she was here with the most arrogant keen bastard she knew and he was giving her the fuck of her life. She and he came too soon. They were barreling toward something too hastily, she wanted it to last—

\--- ---

They fucked everywhere. It was fucking, hard, fast, glorious sex, nothing so pansy as "making" love even if she was starting to feel affection rise between her heartbeats, wriggling itself into her chest with none of Harvey's easy grace below. She pushed him against walls; he bent her over tables. One memorable occasion they snuck into the Dean's office with all the assurance of the school's best students, above expulsion, crawled atop the sofa with the cushions removed so it wouldn't be soft.

He matched her jibe for jibe and thrust for thrust, sometimes more. Dana enjoyed when she could needle him into leading, into throwing her against elevator doors the custodians might open any minute, when she could strip his cool demeanor into the same sharpness but with fire.

Bonnie and Clyde. Sometimes she thought she and Harvey'd make better criminals; they were classy and actually hot. She flings her curls over her shoulder and thinks Take your photos. Just remember to include my class rank.

(Sometimes it's hard to live up to what she created for herself, but: no regrets. Campus includes no good places to let go. She lets Harvey slam into her instead, reminds herself that she can make him speechless and make him come, and tells them both the tear on her face is from how hard he fucks her, and how much she loves it.)

\--- ---

She didn't realize change was rolling in one night. They usually played with each other the way lower courts played with district regs, but this was momentous, like a Supreme Court overturn: it reflected something long in the coming, but you had to label a case (a point, a night) for Before and After.

The low murmur of his jazz beckoned her up the elevator. The mortgage on the apartment had to be killing him— wall to wall glass, designer decor, complicated coffee contraption— but Harvey was probably going to swan through that as soon as he dived into a law firm. 

"Shit," he muttered, papers spread across his desk like a pigeon flock awaiting his crumbs of attention. She waited for him to continue, wearing the royal purple dress he declared (in a moment of intimacy or weakness) made her look dangerous as any a goddess, but he didn't look up. He only said "You stayed at the library a long time today" in a neutral tone.

She tried the teeth-flashing smile that previously had him slamming her into the dressers. "Behind on all the work, wait for it, you weren't in the library doing?"

"Don't say that."

"What should I say, then?" He kept toying with his files. "You lead me to believe we're going to have earth-shattering sex, then you introduce me to your secret paper marriage? It's, it's not my fault you weren't working earlier."

"Come here," he said. When she began unzipping her dress, he inclined his head and patted the sofa. "Here."

A kiss to her throat appeased her for a moment. He settled his lips against the corner of her smile next, gentle, as though he were afraid to keep touching her, as though he wanted to be delicate when her pulse pounded away against his wrist.

"All hands on deck, Harvey?"

"I'll wait on you hand and foot," and finally he made eye contact with her. "Can we do this slower today? I pulled my shoulder in the gym and this case is killing my ego."

"Yes," said Dana. No, she thought, Harvey Specter wrestles his enemies into submission not the other way around, but she let his hands linger on her neck and the smooth skin of her stomach and finally between her legs.

They never finished undressing, although it wasn't from impatience. He crawled away after the first time he came but relented when she sprawled across his desk with bra finally pulled off to lick her into another orgasm. 

He didn't look so sharp in unbuttoned shirt without tie. Mouth still wet and a little open, he gazed into his computer with sleepy eyes while Dana padded off for a drink in discontent she couldn't place.

\--- ---

The week after he asked her for help with the Taylor case.

"You're asking me for help with the Taylor case," she repeated incredulously.

He lifted an eyebrow. "Is that so strange?"

"No," said Dana. _Yes_ , she thought, Harvey Specter kicked asses alone; he didn't need anyone's help. Favors never flowed toward him: that was as simple and uncontroversial as water never flowing uphill. 

They were both like that in not needing anyone.

\--- ---

Law school trained her for two and a half years to slide things together— the details and filings were for the raw associates she planned to outrank quickly. Her education worked, but she was as late as the attorneys who realized their cases in the hallways outside courtrooms and no more prepared when her fling with Harvey turned into something else. She acquiesced to a visit to Crema sometime during the disquieted period, when he wasn't gone. Perhaps something in her approved of the completeness of things transforming where they began.

He watched her with hands clasped over his heart. The other day, serious boy, he told her he really was a jerk ("no one can fault the jerk with a heart of gold if I show it enough," he said) and it rung so false, but he'd just sat watching her quiet and exposed as anything.

(When had she ever held back from slicing him open? She loved the things sharp enough to hurt her, loved the things tough enough to cut right back down. Their cavalier attitude to rules, her sensuality all hurled against him, his pretty teeth—)

The piping hot coffee and the iced peppermint-infused mocha, extra whip, soy milk, caramel syrup on top slowly turned lukewarm. The conversation was no more palatable.

"When did I lose you?"

Harvey offered her a curl of his lips, no white showing. "How could you keep me from being lost?" 

She would remember he wore an uncollared shirt with his sleeves up to expose soft hairs up to his wrist. 

"I thought I won you over," she said. "It was rough, we made it fun, Harvey—"

"Scotty," he countered, too calm. "It was fun, yeah? The moment you started thinking of it as winning and losing, you were bound to lose, because you knew I always win."

She blinked, some tassels of hair swinging before her eyes; she tried to focus on them, following them side to side and eventually gave up. "You win?"

"This is winning," he said, "because I care about you just enough to use that you can't decide whether to care too much or too seldom." He caught the hair strands and pressed them aside like curtains, smiled like he could joke now, tilted his head up as if to question.

Dana tucked her curls behind her ear (if her palm swept over her eyelids along the way, it wasn't intentional) and tried to match his crinkly smile. "Was I just your— your booty call?"

"It's what you asked me for, Scotty."

"Then you were fun and I hope you enjoy a lifetime of girls falling into your arms," she said, on the verge of being sad.

\--- ---

She made up with herself, because that's what women who aren't made of glass do in her world, and then:

He swept into court in his three-piece and ridiculous smirk and Scotty didn't miss the years gone by, not at all.

**Author's Note:**

> All kinds of feedback are welcome and appreciated!


End file.
